Munchies
by weavingmaid
Summary: In between the conspiracies, the intrigues, the shootouts, and the constant running, Clint and Natasha always manage to find time to have lunch. A series of roughly 200 word drabbles.
1. Debrecen

Clint is perched against the Formica table with his legs sprawled across her chair when she returns with two oversized menus.

He opens his mouth to say something but Natasha cuts him off. "I've heard the Hortobágyi palacsinta here is good, so that's what I ordered."

"Am I supposed to—"

"They're pancakes. With veal." The plastic chair squeals loudly as she pushes his legs together and shifts them to one side before she sits down and leans toward him.

"They can't be nearly as good as the pancakes at that Waffle House we went to after that gala in D.C."

"Oh, trust me on this one."

He nods and picks up one of the menus and starts to fiddle with the edges. He hates downtime—the feeling of uncertainty and the way his fingers ache from idleness. After he bends the corner of every page on the menu, he tosses it to the floor and starts drumming an uneven rhythm on the tabletop.

"Clint."

He looks up and sees that the food has arrived. It's just as good as she said it would be, savory and sweet and fragrant.

He smiles. She smiles.

And then she says, "Budapest tomorrow."


	2. Budapest

According to the courier, their next target is having lunch at the café across the street. Clint just wants to get the job done, but Natasha insists that they first go to the bakery underneath the tiny attic office where they are holding an impromptu meeting to pick up the Linzer Torte she apparently ordered this morning.

"Call me Sofia when we're down there."

"Did Fury approve that alias?"

She snorts as she begins to crawl down the fire escape. "I hardly think he cares what name I use when I'm ordering pastries."

"He does when you buy new lingerie," he says as he follows her down.

"Well, we can't have Victoria's Secret wondering about mysterious charges from S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Funny."

They are silent when they finally reach the street. They walk to the back entrance of the bakery, where the head pastry maker's young apprentice waits at the door, clutching the intricately decorated pastry in her arms with the concern of a new mother.

When Clint notices the almost affectionate expression Natasha is wearing as she approaches the young girl and takes it from her, he decides to bring her back here the next time they have to kill someone in Budapest.


	3. Chicago: Part 1

Natasha loves the skyline here, the way the nightshadows of the skyscrapers fall across Lake Shore Drive and their glittering gold lights reflect against the lake. So when Clint suggests that they go to the Signature Room at the John Hancock, she almost needs to struggle to hide her excitement.

About two minutes after they reach the 96th floor, he orders her the raspberry fizz and disappears somewhere as soon as it arrives. She's skeptical at first, since the drink is entirely non-alcoholic and she can't remember the last time she had a virgin drink. But when she takes a hesitant sip and the piercing flavor of fresh mint fills her mouth as raspberry puree slides across her tongue, she understands why he told her it tasted like sex.

She knows she should savor it slowly, but it's too good and it's gone in a matter of seconds.

Clint suddenly reappears and pulls her by the hand to the women's bathroom, where a huge glass window looks down upon the city. As they look down, he leans in for a kiss but she quickly twists around and pins his back against the window.

"Sorry, I just really like the view."


	4. Chicago: Part 2

Clint likes to challenge gravity. The higher he is, the happier he is. And there are few places that can take him higher than the skyscrapers of Chicago.

Dubai, of course, offers some great views, but he finds that he prefers a lake view to one of never-ending sand.

It's only 9:30 when they complete their task, a regular reconnaissance mission in New City. They have nearly three hours before they have to return to the safe house S.H.I.E.L.D has set up for them near the border of Wisconsin.

Tasha's ahead of him. Her phone's open to Yelp, exploring potential dinner options.

But Clint already knows he wants to take her to the Hancock.

He wants her to taste the raspberry fizz, which tastes like mint-laced sex in a glass. And then he wants to sneak into the women's restroom with her—it has the best views of the city—and to lock the door and make love against the windows.

But, as usual, Natasha has her own ideas, and Clint soon finds himself with his back pinned against the window instead of on it, because Natasha likes the view.

As she smiles, he decides he likes the view too.


End file.
